


Thoughts

by szarvasoks



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Force Dyad (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, One Shot, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Saucy, for the female gaze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28951803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szarvasoks/pseuds/szarvasoks
Summary: Rey can't help but think about him.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on the fly so sorry if it sucks. I'm a lesbian with trauma so I'm bad at writing saucy scenes, but I tried. also, I never describe penises because ew lol
> 
> anyways enjoy :)

She dreamt of him again. Ever since their assault on the Praetorian guards. She’d wake up in a cold sweat. 

They’d vary from tender and quiet to frightening. Some left her off the rest of the day, lips and legs buzzing. It filled her with shame and excitement. She had no one to talk about them with. Certainly not Finn, and very certainly with Leia. 

The force hadn’t connected them since Crait. Those sad eyes, whispering goodbye. She was still disappointed and angry with him. But she also ached for him. She’d found herself dreaming of him during her waking day. Often lost in a trance that distracted her from her studies and training. She hoped that her teacher, his mother, wouldn’t see her thoughts. 

She’d imagine his face. Soft lips in a perpetual pout. Heavy eyes watching her every move, studying her mood. They were tired, sunken, but also luminous. Pale skin dotted like a morning starry sky. She’d recall his sturdy yet yielding frame. His strong back and hips that had held her up with ease. Her thoughts made her heart skip. 

She’d especially think of his hand. Unyielding and intimidating in the black gloves, but soft and gentle when unsheathed. Her fingertips still reverberated his touch. She wished that their lips would’ve touched too. She replayed his last physical presence with him. The room was smoldering and the stars were all around. She wanted so bad to take his hand. She wanted to press against his chest and for their lips to meet. To let go of fear and doubt. Only he understood her desperate want for belonging. She wanted to run away with him. She didn’t want to rule or pursue power. She just wanted him. And oh how she wanted him. This was love, she thought. 

Alone in her quarters, a meager and chilly tent, she couldn’t escape these thoughts. She felt like her nerves were screaming. As she undressed, each little touch gave her chills. She dimmed the light and laid on her back. She distracted herself by watching the slightest movement of the night sky through a tiny hole in the canvas roof. It was of no use. She closed her eyes trying to fall asleep. In her closed eyes she saw him. He couldn’t see her of course, this was just her memories. But she felt like he was always watching and listening to her in some way. 

She tightened to the rough blanket around her body, keeping her arms glued to her sides. She opened her eyes again. She couldn’t resist her urges anymore. She carefully loosened her grip on her body. Letting her hands trail up her stomach to her chest. She imagined different hands caressing her above the fabric. Her hand moved up to her mouth. She bit down on her fingertips trying to break her thoughts. No use. 

Her hand went down under the blanket again. She made long, slow movements up and down her torso, finally lifting up the edges of her top. Her breasts were exposed under the cover. Her hands were cold and shaking as she touched them. She slipped one hand under in bottoms. She imagined his hands, shifting from gloved to ungloved. Her free fingertips were on her lips and mouth again. She squeezed her eyes shut and took long breaths.

The sound of the crickets and breeze suddenly disappeared and suddenly she wasn’t alone with her thoughts anymore. 

“It's been a while.” His voice echoed. It made her jump and readjust her clothes. She sat up quickly in her cot. 

“What were you doing?”   
“Nothing!” She didn’t mean to shout but she was flustered.   
“You weren’t sleeping.”   
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Her tone was vaguely accusatory. She was still angry with him.   
“I don’t.” He was serious. He was still clothed, but with a tattered looking cloak on his back. It must be cold on the ship.   
“Really?” Rey scoffed.   
“In a way. Meditation helps.”   
“What do you meditate on?” She asked, her heart was pounding.   
“Many things.” He said quietly. “I’ve missed you.” He said even quieter. 

Rey remained in stunned silence. She wanted to reply with the same sentiment, but her frustration with him prevented her. 

Ben felt vulnerable, his heart in his throat. Mentally kicked himself for sounding so desperate. So weak. The whispers in his mind scolded him. He thought they’d leave after he killed his cruel master but they remained. Always teetering on the edge of reality. 

“Me too.” She whispered. Their eyes met finally. There was a faint glimmer in his eyes. She bit down on her lip and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. She wondered what else he could see around her. From her view, he was seated a few feet away. 

He could sense her curiosity. She was wrapped in an uncomfortable-looking blanket sitting on the ledge of his window, framed by the blackness and stars beyond it. 

“It’s night where you are, isn’t it?” He asked, ”It's always night where I am.”   
“It is night.” She replied.   
“Are you alone?” He asked. Her heart fluttered, why would he ask that?   
“I am.” She was relieved by this.   
“Me too.” He said. “I wish I wasn’t.”   
“You aren’t, not really.” Her stomach ached.   
“I know.” 

She missed these quiet moments with him. 

“It feels like you’re really here, I can feel your warmth radiating from you. I can smell the soil on your floor.” His words made her embarrassingly excited. 

She could feel the chill of the ship and sterile circulated air. She let her clean hand reach out from the blanket. Just like the time in the hut on Ahch-To. He took up her invitation, standing then kneeling at the edge of the ledge. Her heart pounded. She wondered if he could hear it. 

Like the time in Ahch-To, he took off a glove and slowly reached to her. They both had a slight jolt when their fingers met. A warm collision. 

He recognized the sweet smell of her sweat and the smell of heather that always clung to her. Earthy. Their fingers interlocked. His thumb traced her knuckles.   
“Sit with me.” She murmured, inviting him onto her cot. and onto his ledge. 

He felt frozen next to her, but her slight lean against him melted his anxiety. Her hair was half up and the stray static hairs tickled his exposed neck. 

She found herself internally screaming to move in closer to him but she held herself back. She relented and leaned her head against his shoulder. She could smell the smokey aura of his cloak and the faint hint of balm. 

“I’ve been thinking about you.” She said quietly. “Too much.”   
“What were you thinking about.” He kept his breath as even as he could. Rey was too anxious to answer what she truly wanted.   
“I’ve missed you.” She said into his cloak.   
“What were you thinking about before I came tonight?” His curiosity peaked. 

She didn’t want to answer, but she could sense he knew in some way. It was hard to keep secrets with him. 

“Oh.” He saw the faintest image in her mind. She tried to bury it again. He locked hands with her again, leaning toward her as well. Her breathing was staggering. 

She didn’t fight him when he lifted her hand to his lips. They were warm against the tops of her fingers and hand. It was her turn and she drew their hands back to her cheek. She carelessly brushed his palm against her cheek. It was hot and blushing under his skin. 

For a moment he was alone in his thoughts and he gently tilted her chin up. Their eyes were locked. She took his trepidation to move their lips together. It was soft and delicate at first. Something nervous but wanted badly. He took a deep breath and kissed her back with more force. It was like she was really there. 

He gently held her face then the back of her neck. Her hair was soft and intertwined in his fingers. She squeezed his shoulder with one hand and his lower neck with the other. He could sense her desire and her buried thoughts. 

“I think I know.” He broke their kiss.  
“What?” She was out of breath now.   
“What you were doing.” He felt certain now. “Can I show you?” 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

“Please.” Her voice carried the same begging tone he had in the throne room. 

He obliged and pushed the blanket down her shoulders. Her consistent lack of sleeves exposed them. He turned inward to her. Their noses rubbed before they kissed again. He kissed her jawline. Then her neck, which gave her a rash of goosebumps. The kisses turned vaguely rough as he carefully inhaled her skin, bursting capillaries below it. 

“Is this what you were thinking about?” He whispered.   
“Almost.” She said breathlessly.   
His hand ran up her arm to the wrapping around her scar below her shoulder. A reminder of the throne room. He tugged at the cloth exposing it. He kissed along her arm stopping at the scar, shaped like two outstretched hands. He was no stranger to battle scars. He’d since forgiven her for the scars she gave him. He accepted his defeat. 

She winced at the kiss laid upon the scar. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, barely audible. He went to kiss her neck again. She couldn’t prevent herself from touching his hair. It was smooth as she’d imagined. She kissed the top of his head. 

He kissed against her covered sternum, leaning against her unresistant chest. She held him close. 

“Did you think of this?” He murmured as he let one hand hike up the edge of her top. His was like an ember on her waist. 

“Yes.” She said softly.   
He was nervous but he pulled up the top a bit more. Then he let his gloved hand pull up the other side. She twitched at the touch of cool leather.   
“Sorry.” He said low. He anxiously tore it off and returned warmer hands to her half bare torso. 

“S’okay.” Her words slurred. He nodded in return. She trembled under his touch. She reached up to let him fully take off her top. He took a minute to admire her form. Her chest was just as flushed as her cheeks, speckled with tan freckles. He kissed the top of her breast and cupped the other one. They were soft and supple. She made a muted moan, his eyes flickered up to study her expressions. He mouthed over her breasts, leaving the same marks as the ones on her neck. She balled her fists in his hair. 

He wrapped his hand around the small of her back guiding her to lay against the wall. She was now leaning into the thick post of the tent behind her. 

“Do you want to stop?” He said against her chest.   
“No… no.” She sighed. He nodded and licked her sternum down to her navel. He got fully onto the cot and ledge and rested on his knees. He scooted her hips closer to him and gripped the edges of the waistband. 

“I know you thought of this,” he said, kissing the edge of the fabric. He watched her facial expressions before continuing. She tiredly nodded. She rotated her hips to help shimmy off her leggings.

An anxious heat was building up in her stomach and moving further down. She felt like should feel embarrassed by her position but she didn’t. She didn’t even notice how cold their surroundings were. A hand held her inner thigh, she squeezed her eyes shut but felt lips on hers. 

Ben leaned into her with the softest of kisses, but his grip on her thigh tightened. She was starting to feel out of breath. His hand closed in between her thighs, fingers deep inside her. It made her want to buckle. She made a sharp gasp but covered her mouth. 

“This was it, wasn’t it?” He almost seemed pleased that he’d figured it out. He hid his smile by burying his face against her neck. Leaving little marks.   
“Mmhmm.” She mumbled. She wanted more but couldn’t bring herself to ask for it. 

His thumb pressed her open nerve and she couldn’t contain and soft moan. She held on tightly to his cloak and shoulders as he pulled legs over on each of his hips. 

“Please don’t…” she whispered. He paused.   
“Please don’t stop.” She whined. 

He didn’t want to stop. He had no idea what had given him the courage to even start this or continue it, but he was thankful. Now all he could hope was for this brief agency to never end. Rey hoped that the force wouldn’t disconnect them again. 

He left a trail of bites and kisses down her body as he repositioned for the final act. Fingers still inside. His face was nestled against her inner thigh. He couldn’t help but take a gentle bite. He used his free hand to shift her leg onto his shoulder. He pulled fingers out and used them to open her up for a better look and taste. 

The force had allowed sight, sound, touch, and scent, thankfully it also allowed taste. She tasted like nothing he’d ever had before. He didn’t want to come up for air again. Rey could only whimper, her legs started to feel jittery. He used his fingers again to make her cry out. 

“Ben!” She finally shouted. As soon as she did the sounds of the world around her returned and she was alone again. Her legs were a quivering mess. At first, she thought it must’ve been a dream, but the little pools of blood under her skin confirmed it was real. She couldn’t control the shaking. It was cold or fear, but she cocooned herself in the blankets, not bothering to redress. 

Ben hated when she’d leave, but he imagined her being flustered for the rest of the night and into the days and weeks that would follow. He could still taste her and that told him he wasn’t hallucinating it all. His fingers were still slick with the same taste. One perfect hour where nothing else mattered.


End file.
